


(win)winning my heart

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Crushes, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 20:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14922279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Taeil had always loved travelling by train. Never in his life he’d thought something could make it even more pleasant. Until one day he spots a cute foreign-looking boy with hair as pink as his cheeks.





	(win)winning my heart

**Author's Note:**

> this right here is a birthday gift dedicated to moon taeil, one of the best singers in our generation whom i adore with my whole heart

Taeil had always loved travelling by train. Whether it was to visit his grandparents, to get to his friends or going to school now when he was in college. He loved half-empty morning links when he had the luxury to sit down in a cupeé with a warm thermo cup filled with ginger tea. He loved the slow pace of a train when leaving the station, smears of nature as they were passing by forests, loud echoes when in a tunnel. He loved random passengers he met every day bringing someone new. He even loved the typically grumpy seniors, who turned out to be a really friendly people if one had a bit of a small talk with them.

 

Taeil loved it and he’d never thought something else would make him love it even more.

 

Taeil was proven wrong on the first spring day.

 

The sun was shining brightly, but Taeil could still spot vapour coming out of his mouth every time he exhaled, his cheeks and nose pulsing from the cold. The coat and a habitual cup of tea kept his upper part warm, yet his feet felt like falling off. That was a price he had to pay for having morning classes.

 

The station was extraordinarily livelier, he’d have never guessed Tuesdays’ mornings could be this hectic. Groups of adults were impatiently waiting to get their tickets, elderly were sitting on benches happily chattering with each other or their grandchildren, youngsters were leaning against walls, looking down on their phones. The smell of freshly baked goods was spreading through the whole station, luring people to spend their precious ticket money on a piece of pastry.

 

The announcer gave out that the train has just arrived, and so Taeil made his way towards his typical destination. Herds of people were going the same way, as quickly as possible to be able to catch themselves a free spot and Taeil wished to do just about the same thing. Carefully so he wouldn’t slip and spill his drink, he took stairs by two and arrived in wagons, little short on breath.

 

As he was looking around to see which entrance was the least occupied, his attention was caught by a fluffy rose coloured hair.

 

A bag in his right hand was hitting his thigh with each step. He seemed taller than Taeil, and in the black coat, he was wearing even wider than he probably really was. The boy’s head was covered up to his nose in an even fluffier grey scarf, his face red from the frost, same hue as his hair. A dangling earring on his visibly prominent ears was chinkling on an impact of the white earplugs.

 

There was something captivating about the boy that made Taeil stare at him a good minute, until a tense middle-aged woman restively groaned, pulling him out of his daydreaming.

The sight of the boy disappeared the second he set his foot on the train. Now the only thing more important than an attractive man was finding a free seat to sit. After a couple of stressful moments of searching, he found a free seat and sat. His grip tightened around the cup, then heat soaring to his fingers. When he took a sip, a pleasantly sour taste of ginger mixed with lemon tickled his throat.

 

He hoped to see the boy again.

  


And in fact, he did. For the rest of the month, actually. Always boarding the same wagon, always the same coat, same bag, same hair.

 

Taeil tried to study him without being _too creepy,_ making small steps closer to the boy to take a look at his foreign features. His plump lips were always in line, eyes brown as a hot chocolate were constantly running back and forth between the platforms as if he was impatient. Taeil was lucky enough he wasn’t spotted.

  


April had arrived and with that warmer, coat-free weather. Taeil could finally stop bringing his tea to classes, but he never restrained from drinking some every morning. The coat was replaced with thinner sweaters, boots with ankle revealing shoes. Everyone on station seemed to have a new life energy within them, even seniors stopped with their usual bragging, now rewarding everyone with toothless smiles and respectful bowing.

 

Even the boy dropped his black coat and instead he blessed Taeil’s eyes with _a way_ too oversized azure sweater, his sleeves so big they formed sweater paws. The pink colour was slowly fading, their remains were now intertwined with his original _blond_ locks. His skinny jeans were encircling his legs, highlighting his every curve. Taeil could feel himself gay-panicking.

  


This panic of his was lasting for two months already, and he started to be sure he’s having a big, impossible crush on a complete (completely adorable) stranger. And he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Or well, at least not in front of his friend.

 

“Okay, fine, Taeil. I get it. You’re gay. That’s nothing new.” Doyoung said, strewing a third sugar package into his laté.

“No, you don’t get it. He’s cute. The _cutest_! I just want to smooch those cheeks.”

“Don’t get too creepy. What if he’s a minor?”

A picture of the boy’s legs was the first thing that came to Taeil’s mind.

“I doubt it.”

“Ugh, fine, so. What are you planning to do?” Doyoung curiously raised one of his brows and siped from his over-sweetened coffee. A disgusted expression formed on his face.

“What does it look like? I’ll never be brave enough to talk to someone as gorgeous as him. Guys like that tend to be straight anyway.”

“You? Not brave enough? Do I have to remind you of that time when you publically flirted with all male class presidents in our junior years? You didn’t care if they were heteros or not.”  
Taeil helplessly sighed, “This time it’s different, I actually feel something. That’s why I’m so scared.”

Doyoung, like a good friend he is, just scoffed him off and waved his spoon around, “If you won’t try it, you don’t know what you’re missing.”

 

And so, here he was, in his typical route towards his typical destination. He had his eyes on _him,_ mentally preparing for an upcoming encounter.

  
What was he supposed to say to him? ‘Hi, cute stranger, I’ve been creepily watching you for these past two months and just wanted to tell you that you’re a literal angel. By the way, that earring is rad’?

No, that didn’t sound right, even though that’s exactly what Taeil had in mind. He internally cursed Doyoung for encouraging him to the point where he actually listened to him. He was completely fine with his feelings being denied.

 

The train was leaving in several seconds and Taeil had to make his choice. He went to the same place, as usual, still contemplating this whole mad plan. _He probably doesn’t know I exist anyway._

  


_Well, he’s about to find out then,_ his inner voice said to him unexpectedly, making him turn on his heel and immerse in the wagon the boy went to. He was nervously, almost anxiously searching through the cupeés in a hope that his crush will be sitting there _alone._

 

 _There it was._ Almost at the end of the wagon, only him inside, his bag on the seat next to him. He was looking down his phone, looking ever so mesmerizing.

 

Taeil sharply inhaled and opened the cupeé doors. The boy immediately looked up and took one of his earbuds off. The brown orbs were scanning right through Taeil’s face, he could swear the cringe was starting to show and froze to place.

 

But then a soft curve appeared on the pink haired boy’s face and Taeil wasn’t so scared anymore.

 

“May I?”

  
~(muf) _fin_


End file.
